Memoir 5

Drizzling, descending like new liquid silver paint the rays of the moon infused our moon water while we let the stars vibrate through the dark blanket of a sky above our heads, behind the flicker of candle flame I see your aura. Our hearts beat to the same rhythm playing a melody like the universe picking the strings of a harp. As you inhale, I breath deep and mindfully in the moment. The moon is a glowing ball in a mirror reflecting our two souls as one. This is my story of the last full moon we spent together outside in the cool, crisp clean air.

What will a sentence turn into? If I loosen my grip, write it down as a free write, free flow will this melt into a stream and spill out as a current? I never would have believed that my life would get better in between mental health crises and drug addiction, but my mindset changed from the day I said no more. What if I were to talk about it for a minute then rearrange it into a few more sentences making a story, I feel gratitude, I feel whole, I have a partner who makes me feel like we’re a power couple. My son and family never gave up on me so what if I had stayed on the streets? If I hadn’t come back, I’d never have known.

Outside beneath the wind chimes this morning in the warm sunlight, with beads of sweat gathering beneath my scalp, my legs beginning to tan. I brushed your long strands behind your ear and you kissed me; we drank cacao for the first time, each of us sharing a cup after some coffee. The last bit a dark chocolate residue that tastes like earth. And the wind chimes keep our silence, translating it into something the wind might understand.

With your green thumb

and gentle, knowing hands,

thick green stems rose--

lifting six soft clusters on each side,

pink blossoms reaching, directing themselves towards

the morning sun that filters in through our window

and lingers- orange and gold-

as evening says goodbye.

Like us-

You line my medications up each week,

I press away your long days from your feet,

your back,

learning the language of your tired muscles.

We tend to each other

mutually

in small sacred rituals

and in that tending, something grows

like sepals parting to reveal what was always there

waiting to reach the sun.

Touching you is love in form,

feeling your kiss is an electric pulse,

Yesterday and tomorrow is everlasting bliss,

In your arms, time forgets to exist.

Let the universe have some control

Practice self-care

And you will take flight

It’s always an uphilll battle

So I’ll learn to go with the flow

Instead of fight

My mom sacrificed belonging to herself- She's been our housekeeper, our personal cook, our taxi to dance, school- She's our safety, our listening ear, our comfort- Our nurturing hug when we did something wrong and needed reassurance that we were still good daughters. She's our art lessons, our editor, she read novels to us chapter by chapter each night. My dad has never stopped working- Hands caked in thinset and cracked- He cleans them and glues the skin back together. I try to work hard- it hurts. I can't believe how long he's worked before and after knee surgery after slipping a disk in his back. I haven't really given them my full attention- I want to hear their stories from back then. My parents work together and help everyone around. They are the rock foundation to home and the glue holding our family together.